“How come you were up and out so early?” asked Cordelia. She was standing in the kitchen, her generous hip resting against the granite countertop, waiting for her Toaster Strudel to pop up. Hattie was already at preschool, and Cecily was off having breakfast with her mom.
Jane sat at the kitchen table, watching Cordelia’s morning nutritional ritual with a jaundiced eye. “I can’t believe you still eat that crap.”
“If I eat it, it’s got to be the breakfast of champions, yes? And in case you didn’t notice, I traded up. I’m no longer eating Pop-Tarts. These are much better.”
Cordelia’s eating habits ran from childish to avant-garde gourmet. Jane admired the culinary adventurer part of her nature but couldn’t believe some of the choices she made. Shrugging, she went back to her oatmeal. “To answer your question, I was out renting a car. I’m driving back to Eagle Ridge this morning.”
Cordelia’s eyebrows shot upward just as the strudel did. “Why the rental car?”
“Because Nolan thinks my Mini would be too conspicuous. I need to do a little more checking around today.” She leaned down and gave Mouse’s head a scratch, then glanced at his dog bowl and saw that one of the cats was finishing up the last of the kibble.
“Didn’t you do enough yesterday?” asked Cordelia. “You sure got an earful from that cop.”
After returning to the loft last night, Cordelia had insisted on hearing every last detail that Jane and Nolan had unearthed.
“The thing is, we never actually saw Luberman. He wasn’t in his office. We drove out to his cabin. His truck was there, but he must have been inside. I want to get a look at him, Cordelia. Meet him, if I can.”
Cordelia drummed her long red nails on the countertop. “I suppose my Hummer would be too conspicuous, too, huh?”
“Well, yeah. Might as well drive a tank down the center of town.” She bit off one of the tips of the Toaster Strudel. “I have to admit, Janey, you’ve wounded me to the core.”
“I have?”
“Now that you’ve got Nolan in your life, I’m no longer needed. And after all the years I’ve put in, the skills I’ve honed! The car chases. The breaking and entering. Hiding in bushes. Assuming alternate identities. I’ve been your decoy, your deal maker, and your sitting duck. Not to mention the time I saved your life by driving my Hummer through—”
Jane held up her hand. “I hear you.”
Cordelia sniffed, trying to look tragic and racked by suffering. Then she took a big bite of the pastry.
“You’re my best friend, Cordelia.”
“Your partner in crime?”
“Absolutely. You can come with me anytime you want. I didn’t ask you yesterday because I knew you’re busy with the new play. I thought you couldn’t get away.”
Cordelia sighed dramatically, which was hard to do while chewing. “Joanna called a few minutes ago when you were in the shower, said she’d had a horrible night’s sleep. She begged off, said she couldn’t possibly make it to the theater today. So, as it happens, I’m free as a bird.” She flicked Jane a plaintive glance, then looked away.
“Do you want to come along?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Stuffing the rest of the pastry in her mouth, she said, “Give me a couple minutes to get dressed.” She
picked up Hattie’s PediaSure off the kitchen table and took a couple of swigs, then headed for the stairway up to her raised bedroom.
“Can you make it quick?”
She turned around. “Not if you expect me to dazzle.”
“I can live with imperfection.”
“That’s obvious.” She eyed Jane’s cowboy boots, jeans, jeans jacket, and black turtleneck.
“Hey. It’s a good look.”
“For a cowpoke, maybe. But I’ll take my cues from you—stay with the bucolic theme.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Wait and see, dearheart. Wait and see.”
No matter how hard Cordelia tried, she simply couldn’t get herself together in less than an hour. Jane sat in the living room and played with Mouse for a while. She’d already stuffed his leash in her back pocket. She looked through a couple of magazines, clipped her nails, watered some plants, watched a little CNN until she couldn’t stand it another second. Finally, she hollered at Cordelia to hurry up. “If we don’t get going soon, we’ll be doing this surveillance with night-vision goggles.”
“As it happens, I have a pair,” said Cordelia, sweeping down the stairs in a red fox-hunting jacket, tan breeches, tall black riding boots, black leather gloves, and a velveteen helmet. A riding crop was pressed under one arm. “Really, Jane, it’s a tangle. I’ve never seen anything in In Style on how to dress to surveil. There are so many unknowns.”
Jane stood and faced her. Apparently her comments about needing to be inconspicuous had not sunk in. Then again, things could be worse. Cordelia could have worn her matador outfit. Jane considered asking her to change but figured that would mean another hour before they got on the road.
Two hours later, after a stop for lunch—or, as Cordelia put it, “the ritualized sharing of nutritional goodness in the period of high sun”—at the Norske Nook in Osseo, Wisconsin, Jane stopped the Chrysler Sebring in front of a storefront on Chamberlain’s main drag. The building directly to their right was narrow, two stories, with the word MCCORMICK and 1902 carved in the cocoa brown sandstone just under the oversized arched window. The black-and-white metal sign above the doorway said LUBERMAN LANDSCAPE DESIGN.
“This must be the place,” said Cordelia. Glancing around, she added, “These streets don’t look very mean to me. But then, every town has a seedy underbelly, right?”
“That must be Luberman,” said Jane, taking off her sunglasses and pointing at the man sitting in the window working at a drafting table.
“Him? No way.”
He fit the general description. Blond. Late forties. But that’s where the similarities ended.
“Must be an employee,” said Cordelia.
“I don’t think so.”
“Listen, that guy in there is the human embodiment of the Michelin Man. It can’t be him.”
Luberman still looked strong, but the lean man who’d been released from prison in 1998 was now covered in a good seventy-five pounds of extra flesh. His arms reminded Jane of thick sausages and his face looked like stretched rubber, permanently reddened.
“That a hat on his head?” asked Cordelia, squinting.
“You need glasses. It’s a bald spot.” Jane slipped her sunglasses back on. “Let’s go in. See what he charges for landscape work. If you do the talking, then I can stand back and study him. Just say you’re in the area looking to buy a summer home.”
Mouse, who’d been sleeping in the backseat most of the way, sat up and gave the building his full attention.
“You stay here, buddy,” said Jane, turning around and giving his ear a friendly pull.
On the way in, Cordelia whispered, “I’m Lady Gladys and you’re Rachael.”
“No no …”
“Shhh.”
They approached the front counter. Luberman worked another couple of seconds at the drafting board, then stood up. “Can I help you?”
“Are you Mr. Luberman?” asked Cordelia with an upper-crust English accent.
“Yes?” he said, a puzzled look on his face.
“My name is Lady Gladys Night … ah … bridge.”
Jane cringed.
“Nightabridge?” repeated Luberman.
“That’s correct. And this is my cousin Rachael.”
“Nice to meet you both,” said Luberman, gazing skeptically at Cordelia’s clothes.
“We were wondering what you charged for your landscape services.”
He rested a heavy forearm covered in blond hair on the counter. “Depends on what you want. You two live around here?” His gaze switched to Jane. She could tell he didn’t like the fact that her eyes were hidden behind the dark glasses. It made reading her more difficult. And he was trying hard to get a read on both of them.
“My husband’s family hails from Madison. We’re on holiday at the moment, be here another fortnight. We live in London, but we’re thinking of spending summers here. My mission is to seek out a home on one of these lovely lakes. Something upmarket. I need to find a bloke who can take care of the property when we’re not around. Whatever needs to be done.”
“What places have you looked at?”
“Actually, I’m just beginning my search. Haven’t even hired an estate agent yet.”
Jane got the sense that he wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not but was leaning toward giving her the benefit of the doubt. He probably didn’t want to turn away a potential customer.
“My American cousin and I were just driving down your high street when we saw your sign. I’m thinking that most of these properties around here will no doubt need landscaping work as well.”
“What sort of place are you looking for? What price range?”
“Four, maybe five hundred thousand—American. Whatever it takes to get something suitable.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Sure, I could handle that.” He slipped a card out of the pocket of his blue polo shirt and handed it to her. “What does Mr. Nightabridge do?”
“He’s in … plastics. Heavy-duty. Silly things, really. But lucrative. Very lucrative.”
He nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Like I said, I’d be happy to take care of whatever you end up buying.”
“Wonderful. By the way, do you do the work yourself?”
“Most of it, yeah. I like being outdoors.”
“Do you have … references?”
He reached under the counter and brought up a white packet. “There’s a brochure in there with my price list and the names of the people I’ve worked for in the area. And, of course, I can customize my services pretty much any way you want.”
Except for the whiff of paranoia, which probably wasn’t obvious to anyone who wasn’t looking for it, he seemed so normal that it was hard to picture him as a stalker, or worse, a murderer. Evil might be real, it just wasn’t visible to the naked eye.
“Thank you,” said Cordelia, moving the riding crop from one arm to the other. “I’ll be sure to have my secretary look it over.”
Luberman glanced down at her boots. “Do you always dress like that?”
“Like what?”
“I mean, are you a horse woman?”
“Horses? Heavens, no. What gave you that impression?”
Jane gently tugged Cordelia toward the door.
“Ta ta,” she called, waving with her fingers.
Once they were safely back in the car, Jane said, “The point behind surveillance is not to arouse suspicions.”
“Yes, I know. But I did a fine job—no need to thank me, Jane. My accent was impeccable, didn’t you think? Even threw in a few Britishisms. And I gave you plenty of time to study him at close range. To be quite honest, I’m sure those teeth of his must be false. But that’s just my opinion. I point this out because I’m not sure you noticed.”
Jane’s eyes rose to the roof of the car. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Ten-four. Mission accomplished. Where to now?”
“Let’s drive out to Whitefish Lake.”
“Didn’t you do that yesterday?”
“Yes, but we only viewed the cabin from the road. We know he’s at work today. That means it’s safe to walk in and take a closer look.”
Fifteen minutes later, they parked the car about half a mile from the entrance to the property, just in case somebody drove by and wondered what a strange vehicle was doing so close to Luberman’s cabin.
Jane let Mouse out to run around the woods for a few minutes. “Not a very interesting day for you, buddy. We’ll go for a run around Lake Harriet when we get home.” She scratched his head and gave him a kiss. “We won’t be long.” She locked him back in the car, making sure to leave the windows open a crack. It was a beautiful fall day, with temperatures in the high fifties, but a car’s interior could heat up quickly.
“You really love that dog, don’t you,” said Cordelia as they walked along the side of the dirt road toward the entrance to Luberman’s land.
“I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
“He’s really taken to Hattie.”
“I know. Dogs and kids belong together.”
“Speaking of Hattie.” She reached into her pocket and removed her cell phone. “She should be home from preschool by now. She usually calls me.” Flipping it open, she said, “Well, lookey here. Seems that while we were in Luberman’s place of business, I got a call from my dear sister.” She pressed a few buttons and then listened to the message. When she was done, she flipped the phone closed. “Huh.”
“What?”
“She’s coming to town.”
“Really? When?”
“She just said soon. She wants to introduce me—and you, by the way—to the new love of her life.”
“Goodie. Can’t wait. If she marries the guy, this will make it an even half dozen, right?”
“She won’t marry him.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It might interfere with her movie career. That, Janey, comes first, last, and in between. She needs to be free to charm her way into the bedrooms of the powers that be.”
“Boy, you really don’t think much of her.”
“She’d use anything necessary to climb her way to the top. And since she’s growing older by the day, the quickest way to cut through all the red tape is with, shall we say, the personal touch.”
It all sounded so sordid. Jane understood that Cordelia often painted Octavia with a blacker brush than was strictly necessary. Octavia was already rich, having inherited Hattie’s father’s legendary wealth. So this wasn’t a money grab. It was Octavia’s professional ambition that drove her. And her ambition, her need for success—as everyone around her knew—was immense.
“I’m sure the new boy’s beautiful and crazy about her,” said Cordelia as they rounded the turn onto Little Turtle Road. “They always are.”
The house sat on a small bluff overlooking the lake. Woods circled around behind the property and thinned out as they reached the service drive. A deep-green lawn spread out in front of the house all the way down to the beach. A wide wooden dock jutted out into the bay, with two boats tied to the end. The large white one looked new, part fishing boat, part pleasure craft. The word PRO-LINE was printed on the side. Jane judged that it was probably a good twenty feet long. The other boat appeared to be a handmade houseboat. It was much smaller, maybe twelve feet in length if you counted the pontoons it rested on from end to end. The house part of it didn’t look much bigger than eight by eight. And the motor itself was smaller, possibly quieter. It looked beat up, like it had been used hard for a long time.
“Come on,” said Jane. “Let’s check the place out.”
The grass around the cabin had been recently cut. Up the hill, a section of woods was in the process of being cleared. Luberman had cut and neatly stacked logs from the trees he’d removed. He must have had a recent fire because the smell of wood smoke lingered in the air.
“Nice place,” said Cordelia.
“Secluded,” said Jane.
The cabin was two stories high with a steep gable facing the water. Windows covered the front, from the ground all the way to the tip of the gable, allowing for a panoramic view of the lake.
Jane climbed the steps to the deck that ran across the front of the cabin. Luberman had spent some bucks, not only on the boats but also on some expensive outdoor furniture. A new stainless steel gas grill sat next to what had probably once been used as a potting shed table but was now part of his outdoor kitchen. Wildflowers were tied together in bunches, hanging upside down on metal hooks jutting out from the house, drying in the afternoon sun. Clay pots had been lined up along the edge of the deck. A few contained the usual hothouse flowers—New Guinea impatiens, dahlias, begonias. But on the whole, Luberman seemed to favor succulents and cacti.
Jane stepped up to the window, cupped her hands around her eyes, and looked through the glass. All the furniture had a northwoods feel to it. The walls were covered in knotty pine. A Native American blanket rested on the back of the leather couch. Next to the wall-mounted plasma TV was a rifle rack. Next to that hung an assortment of old, rusted tools. The place seemed comfortable enough. Nothing was out of order. If Jane hadn’t known what Gordon Luberman was, the cabin and the surrounding grounds would have made her think the man who lived here might be an interesting person to get to know. She shivered at the thought.
“Down here!” called Cordelia.
Jane turned and saw that Cordelia was standing on the aft section of the houseboat. “What is it?”
“Just come here.” She was leaning over, examining something on the floor.
Jane jumped off the deck. As she did so, a flash of sunlight glinted off something up near the top of the service drive. She paused, her heart racing as she visually inspected the area. Nothing was moving. She couldn’t see a car or a truck. She hadn’t heard one, either. She stood a minute longer, watching the trees. Whatever it was that had caused the reflection had left her feeling unsettled.
“Janey, hurry up!”
With one last sweep of the road, Jane hurried down to the dock. She immediately saw what had captured Cordelia’s attention.
“It’s an oversized cooler,” said Cordelia.
“They use them for fishing.”
“Do fish bleed?”
“Sure.”
“Oh.”
Cordelia had read nearly every play that had been written in the English language, but when it came to the natural world, she wasn’t going to win any contests. She’d once asked Jane if radishes grew on trees.
“Why?”
“Because there’s dried blood in here. I’m sure of it.”
“And?”
“Well, if Luberman did kidnap, murder, and then dump the body, this would be an easy way to do it.” She looked up, her eyes traveling over the water. “It’s deserted out here. There isn’t another dock or cabin in sight. He could do anything he wanted and be completely unobserved.”
“He did it once before and it worked. Why not do it again?” said Jane. “But wouldn’t you think the cops had already thought of that?”
“Maybe, but if they couldn’t get a warrant to search the place, they wouldn’t know about the blood. We can tell them. Once they know, they talk to a judge, get a search warrant, test the blood for DNA, and while they’re waiting for the results, they arrest Luberman on suspicion of murder.” She clapped her hands together as if that was the end of the story.
“Doesn’t work like that. We’re trespassing. I don’t think they can use what we found to get a warrant.”
“Well, damn. They should just dredge the lake. At least they’d be doing something.”
“The chest was in plain sight,” said Jane, thinking about it a little more. “But you had to take the cover off to see the blood.”
“No I didn’t. I noticed the blood on the cover. That’s why I opened it up.”
Jane would have to talk to Nolan. He knew the legalities much better than she did.
“Come on, Cordelia. I think we should get out of here.”
“Why? We just started.”
The queasy feeling in the pit of Jane’s stomach was getting worse by the minute. It might not mean anything, but if Luberman felt even the least bit ill at ease about the conversation they’d had at his office, if he had any sense that Jane and Cordelia were part of a tail, then his next move might be to drive around and see if he could find them. Stopping by his house would undoubtedly be part of that search.
“I saw something up on the road. I’m not sure what it was, but if it was Luberman, he could have seen us.”
“Oh.” Cordelia flew off the boat. “I’m with you, Janey. Let’s hit the bricks.”
Jane sprinted across the grass to the service road. Cordelia followed, but at a slower pace. When Jane reached the top, she looked around. All was quiet. “You doing okay?” she called, turning around and waiting for Cordelia to catch up.
“I just love rushing up a hill when I’m terrified. Really gets the old juices going.” The look on her face suggested she wasn’t having any fun at all.
“I’m going to run ahead,” said Jane. “But I’ll stay within earshot. If I see or hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll do the same,” said Cordelia, bending over and resting her hands on her knees.
Jane took off at a moderate clip. Half a mile wasn’t far. Cordelia had parked around a bend in the road, so she wouldn’t be able to see the car until she was right on top of it. She realized now that parking it there had been a mistake. She quickened her pace when she began to smell gasoline. Maybe it was a boat out on the lake, but she doubted it. She should have been able to hear a motor and she couldn’t. She stopped for a moment and sniffed the air. The smell was strong now. Knowing in her gut that something was wrong, she took off at a dead run. As she burst around the bend in the road, she saw that her rental car was on fire.
“Mouse!” she screamed, feeling her heart go crazy inside her chest. If she didn’t get to him before the gas tank blew, it was all over.
Edging closer, she tried to see him in the backseat, but thick, black smoke was beginning to rise in bitter clouds, obscuring her vision. A gust of wind forced the smoke over her. She tried to wave it away, but it was all around her, inside her, stinging her eyes. She backed off, coughing so hard she thought she’d throw up. She was about ten feet from the car when the gas tank caught. The explosion knocked her flat on her back. Crawling away from the inferno, she screamed, “Mouse! I’m trying!”
She scrambled to her feet, but she couldn’t move. She stood at the edge of the road, watching helplessly, hands balled into fists, screaming her dog’s name until she had no voice left.
Finally, knowing that it was hopeless, she dropped to her knees, unable to take her eyes off the fiery ball. She felt like someone had taken a razor and sliced her heart in half. Her mind went numb.
As the fire began to burn down, she sat down in the dirt, pulled her knees up to her body, folded her arms around them, and began to rock. It was all her fault. The words “He trusted me” hammered at her. Her fault. Her fault.
“Janey?”
She looked up, saw Cordelia standing over her. At that moment, a feeling of total and absolute hate washed over her. “Luberman torched the car,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“God.” She stood for a moment, taking in the scene.
Jane pressed her eyes shut. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She wiped them away, seeing that they’d mixed with the soot on her face. Her hand was covered in an oily blackness. Cordelia sat down in the dirt next to her, circled Jane’s waist with her arm. That small act of kindness broke something inside her. She rocked forward against her knees, sobs racking her body. “I’ll kill him,” she said, choking on the words. “I’ll kill him.”
Neither spoke for several minutes.
Finally, Jane wiped the arm of her jeans jacket across her face and looked up at the sky.
“Do you think,” said Cordelia. “I mean, could Luberman still be hiding out there behind a tree somewhere?”
“He’s gone. He probably stuck around long enough to watch my reaction. I’m sure that’s how he gets his jollies.”
Cordelia stared down at the dirt.
Except for the creaking of the white-hot car frame, the road was quiet again. All around them, the normal woodland sounds were returning.
After another couple of minutes, Cordelia said, “It’s all my fault, Janey. I shouldn’t have used an English accent.”
“No, it’s not your fault. I made the decision to go in there and talk to him. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”
Deep in the woods came the faint sound of a bark.
Jane swiveled around. “Did you hear that?”
“What?”
She moved into a crouch. “There it is again.” Rocketing into the woods, she headed toward the sound, jumping over dead logs, sidestepping trees. “Bark again!” she screamed. Her voice seemed to have returned. “Mouse, I’m coming.” She knew it could easily be another dog—probably was.
As she ducked under a low-hanging branch, she spied a clearing about a hundred yards ahead. “Mouse? Bark again. Louder!” She ran flat-out. The barking did get louder, more insistent. She felt sure it was him now. If Luberman was holding him captive, she’d deal with it.
Reaching the clearing, the only living being in sight was her dog. He was attached by his leash to a section of clumped birch. When he saw her, he began to jump in the air and yip. He seemed as wild to see her as she was to see him.
“Mouse,” she said, sliding to her knees in front of him, grabbing him up in her arms, never wanting to let him go. “Oh, baby, you’re alive!” She buried her head in his fur. He licked her face, her hands, her hair, her ears. “You’re alive,” she repeated again and again, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
She heard Cordelia’s distant call. “Are you okay?”
“I’m coming,” she yelled back. She stood and unhooked Mouse’s
collar from the leash, then untied the leash from the tree. Hooking Mouse back up, she led him out of the woods, scraping at her face with the cuffs of her jacket.
“Oh, my God,” said Cordelia, when she saw them emerge from the woods. Her eyes grew wide watching Mouse trot along beside Jane as if nothing had happened. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Luberman has a heart—or the remnants of a conscience. He must have broken into the car and taken him out before he doused it with gasoline.”
“Maybe he likes dogs.”
Jane had no idea and really didn’t give a rip. Except, she didn’t want to be beholden to this freak, but like it or not, she was.
Cordelia bent down and gave Mouse a hug. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, babe.” Glancing up at Jane, she said, “So, now what do we do?”
Jane looked both ways down the dirt road. Nothing seemed impossible now that Mouse was okay. She felt like she could fly home. “I guess we start walking.”
“Can’t we call a cab?”
Jane laughed, feeling it ease some of the tension in her body. “God, but I love you.”
“You do?”
“Only you would suggest calling a cab when we’re in the middle of nowhere. Cordelia, there aren’t any cab companies out in the boonies.”
“A bus, then?”
She shook her head.
“Maybe there’s a rental car company around here that picks you up. You know, like Enterprise.”
“Try your cell phone. But I figure our best bet is the highway. Maybe somebody will come along and give us a lift back to Eagle Ridge.”
“How far away is the highway?”
“About three miles.”
“Three miles? Three miles!”
“We could jog.”
“No, we couldn’t.”
“Okay, suit yourself.” Jane tugged on Mouses’s leash and started down the road.
“Hey.”
“What.”
“I don’t suppose I could wait here.”
“If you want. But it will likely be dark by the time I get back.”
Cordelia rapped the riding crop impatiently against her boot, glared at what was left of the car, then sighed deeply and scurried to catch up.